A Glimmer of Summer

Baseball. Say the word to yourself a few times. Close your eyes and repeat it over and over. Before long you'll realize you might as well be saying the word, "America." In the over 200 years of our country's existance there has always been baseball. Our nation and our national passtime grew up together and today the game is as intregal a part of our society as freedom of speech or the right to vote. Throughout all the upheavals, the contraversies, and the unrest our society has navigated, baseball has stood by our side and reminded us of what is still good and pure. It is something that we as Americans can call our very own.

The game of baseball is captivating. It is, after all is said and done, a simple game. There are only two lines on the field, and never more than 13 players walk that field at one time. There are no rigid time constraints, no yellow flags to enforce obscure rules, and no need to distract the patronage of the game with a 15 minute show in the middle of each contest. It is, however, the intricacies hidden within the simplicity of the game which make it so alluring. The mystery of pitch selection, the alignment of the defense, the strategy of the bunt, the sacrifice fly, and the intentional walk. All of these sideplots and asighs in a game that looks so simple on the surface are what make it so great.

Baseball is more than a game, it is a sensation. Or rather, a mix of sensations. In these cold dark winter months I miss the game, but what I long for are the sights and sounds and smells. The fresh cut, emerald grass, the smell of the concession stands, the sound of hard leather meeting harder wood. All of these things blend together to form the perfect experience that is a day at the ballpark.

Above all other things, baseball is a bond. It brings our nation together, it brings our communities together, and it brings our families together. Forget the multi-million dollar athletes, the expensive uniforms, and the enormity of the baseball stadium. Baseball is about family. Your dad taught you baseball just as his dad taught him. When you were a kid you'd play catch in the backyard with your old man, not because you were preparing for anything, but because you got to enjoy a piece of the game together. Your dad, or your grandfather, or your uncle took you to your first game. He patiently answered your questions, he explained the game to you, and then he sat back in his chair, watched the wonder that was surely present on your face, and smiled to himself.

Baseball will be back soon...